I picked this up at Foyle’s on the January trip to London after the blurbs on the back intrigued me: “story of a passionate love affair”, “heart-breaking true account of mad, intemperate love”, “filled with a searing emotion that burns off the page.” First person narrative; talking to the lover lost (murdered); remembering the moments, each one as they came; gathering memories; filling in the blanks. Thinking of the what-might-have-beens. Recalling what was.

Sad but moving. Occasionally awkward. Concise. Very quick read.

It wasn’t until after I read the notes in the back of the book and googled the author’s name that I learned the details — a true story. But questions remain. Was Tonio murdered as a message to quiet his mother’s research into a previous love triangle murder? Was he simply at the wrong place at the wrong time? Intriguing.

Considered a seminal release by many, I heard about this from my Dad. Probably everyone serious about military history and war (or anti-war) that was his age when this was published read this book. The story of an anti-hero, who fights in every war Earth carries on over hundreds of years. Haldeman touches on many issues, not just war related, but genetics, prejudice, the whole nine yards. And the message comes through loud and clear. I think Vonnegut would approve.

Worst of all was the feeling that perhaps my actions weren’t all that inhuman. Ancestors only a few generations back would have done the same thing, even to their fellow men, without any hypnotic conditioning.

A worthy follow-up to her early memoir “A Girl Named Zippy.” My favorite chapter was: “A Short List of Records My Father Threatened to Break Over My Head If I Played Them One More Time.” My favorite moment may have been when another student in her class got up and recited a John Denver song, pretending it was his original poem, and Kimmel was so angry she was determined to turn him in for committing a crime. Or when her mom tells her to go wash her hands for dinner, and “I considered saying “Mom, I eat rocks, for heaven’s sake.”

Really hilarious stuff and great slices of smalltown life. But here’s my question: how in the holy fucking hell does she REMEMBER all this stuff? If I tried to write a book of childhood memories, there’d be maybe two pages of what I remember, then five to six pages of “shit my parents have told me so many times, I kinda THINK I remember it, except really I don’t.” And the other 292 pages would be BLANK because I.Do.Not.Remember.Anything and I’m so not joking about that. She remembers so much she’s gotten two books out of it. She remembers exact conversations she had in sixth grade. Or before. Did she keep a diary? Is that how? I am baffled by this. When I finally get a superpower, maybe it’ll be MEMORY because I am surely lacking it.

The EW review that made this sound like a literary version of “Sliding Doors” may have gotten my expectations up too high as I expected to just outright adore this book. I did like some of it. But there were certainly points where the plot (either plot, sometimes both at once) just wasn’t going where I wanted it to and thus I found myself a little disappointed. And there were also times when I found myself frustrated with the decision making process of the characters and (some of them’s) incredible slowness at doing so.

Great descriptions of Irina’s artwork: to the point where you can almost picture it in your mind and really wish you could actually go buy these books for kids you know!!! (Similar to the descriptions of Bill’s paintings in Siri Hustvedt’s “What I Loved”. They seem so intensely “real”.) Liked the subplot with Irina’s family.

But afraid my expectations were not quite met.

Also I found the tenuous 9/11 connection a bit annoying, as I did with Ian McEwan’s “Saturday” as well. Don’t think either book really made that work in their favour.

Since most books of poetry are so slim, and can sometimes take a few readings to really absorb all the imagery, I read them a few times over a week or so, before I actually consider them “read.”

These poems span the gap between a relationship falling apart/ending up in divorce, and a new relationship beginning/moving in together. They are calm and point blank; the honesty of hindsight. They are sparse and stripped, as one’s emotions would be. Not outwardly exclamatory or emotional, but quite powerful nonetheless.

Africa. Summer. A murder, a fire, a circus. Dark and brooding. Slim, concise. Lots of solitude and alone-ness, some chosen, some not. Identities stolen, crimes misattributed, things concealed, things admitted. Some longer chapters broken up by many short and choppy others. Lots of dust and heat and listlessness.

Sometimes confusing pronoun usage (purposely I think). Often left to the reader’s interpretation which he “he” is. At one point, something happened to a “he” that, I thought, had to be one of three certain “he” people. Yet if I interpreted later chapters correctly, it couldn’t have been any of those three it happened to. So to whom? (And at one point, the book said “Ho” when I’m pretty sure it meant “He”. Otherwise, one of the “he” characters was named “Ho” but, if you ignore that, we don’t ever find out that particular dude’s name (we do know the others) and pretty sure we’re not meant to so I think it must have been a misprint.)

Had read a previous Galgut “The Good Doctor” from the Booker short list a few years back and if you search this page for “Galgut” you can see my brief comments.

My parents gave me this for Christmas (along with this) both selections from The Rue Morgue Press, a small publishing house in Colorado that’s reprinting old mysteries from the 30s and 40s. (I’ve now got an entire list I need to order!!)

A completely ditzy-blonde society deb-type marries a vicar, moves to his small-town, and finds herself embroiled in mystery when his curate is murdered on Christmas Eve. There’s illegitimate children and blackmail and poison and a secret service agent…and so much more.

Quick easy read. Lots of fun! If you like old mysteries (Agatha Christie?) or new mysteries written like those of old (Jacqueline Winspear or the Laurie King Russell/Holmes series) then you need to check out the offerings from The Rue Morgue!!